


Just Hold A Smile

by TheScarletAngel



Series: All the Madness We Share [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Background Relationships, Bittersweet Ending, Child Abuse, Dark, Depression, Drama, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/M, Family Drama, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Original Character Death(s), Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27484996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheScarletAngel/pseuds/TheScarletAngel
Summary: Sam doesn't smile. He just doesn't. He has no reason to. When he moves to Gotham, it's not out of hope for a good life, but out of a realization he will never be more than he is. Until green hair and white skin give him the tools to be happy. If only a blue-haired bitch would get out of his way.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Original Male Character(s), Jonathan Crane/Original Female Character(s) (background), Roman Sionis/Original Female Character(s)
Series: All the Madness We Share [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899754
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

Sixteen was a tough age, especially in a rural Midwest town where everyone knew everyone. It was harder when your parents were well-known drug addicts. It was even harder when you were gay. 

We lived in a town of about 700 people, about 30 miles north of Mankato. Or would that make it a village? Whatever it was, it was small. Lots of southern Minnesota towns were small. There was a school, a grocery store, a restaurant, four gas stations, five churches, and five bars. Why small towns had an influx of churches and bars was a mystery to me. I mean, to be fair, most of the people I knew went from church Sunday mornings straight to the bar afterward. Kind of twisted thinking.

Anyway, my class was made of about thirty-five people. Very small, and most of them didn’t live in our town. Some of them came from other neighboring small towns. That was how small our town was. 

The smallness was the problem. 

Small meant people knew everything. Small meant it was hard to hide anything. Living in a small town like mine was fine if you were, quote-unquote, normal. And by normal, I meant white, straight, and at least middle-class. I mean, for the most part, that was how it was.

I was only one of those things, and that was the fact that I was white. Otherwise, I was a gay and poor individual with drug addicts for parents. And everyone knew these things.

That’s not to say I was the only one who didn’t fit in. I had one amazing friend who was of Asian descent, Chinese to be specific. Her name was An. A nice enough family adopted her, and An was a wonderful girl. The town I lived in was not wonderful, unfortunately being filled with racists.

There were others who felt the brunt of the brutal comments and actions. There was a single African-American kid in my school, and he wasn’t very popular. I had never spoken to the other boy, but even without knowing him, I knew we had one thing in common. The same was with the girl with Down Syndrome, though I wondered how anyone could be cruel to her. She was an adorable girl. But it didn’t matter to anyone. Because we were different, we were supposed to be hated.

Being different sucked. But I couldn’t change who I was. That was the worst part about being me. 

Sometimes, I hated the person I was.


	2. Minnesota, 1997

My parents were passed out on the couch when I got back from school, most likely from a combination of drugs and alcohol based on the bottles and needles that were lying around. The whole place reeked of alcohol. I ignored the two lying on the couch and locked myself into my room. I figured they wouldn’t be up for a while. Maybe they’d finally killed themselves from overdosing. Wouldn’t that be something? Maybe, when the inevitable miserable Minnesota winter came, they would shoot up outside and freeze to death. Maybe they’d be drunk and driving down an icy road and end up hitting an electric pole. With them dead, that’d be one less thing for me to worry about and one less thing for the people of this goddamn town to hate me for. Or it would just add more fuel to the fire. Dead drugged up parents would just pave the way for more bullying from other kids and pitiful looks from adults.

I hated living in this stupid town where everyone knew everyone. If we lived in a bigger city, maybe Minneapolis or St. Paul, no one would even spare a glance my way. Johanna and Ramsay Evans would just be two other faces on the streets looking for drugs. I’d heard drugs were bad up there. Maybe no one would even give me a second glance for smelling like alcohol. 

Even if the fantasies were completely wrong, they were still nice to consider. A life away from all of the drugs would only ever be a fantasy, though. At least, until I eventually moved out on my own.

I pulled out  _ The Great Gatsby _ , the book my class was reading in English. I hated it. But I also hated reading. I had never found a book that I actually enjoyed. This one I thought was boring. The teacher said these books could be applied to our lives. So far, I had found nothing that related me to Jay, Daisy, Nick, or even Tom. Except, maybe the fact that I was convinced Nick was gay and in love with Jay Gatsby. Even then, the comparisons between me and Nick didn’t really exist.

My friend An so far enjoyed the book. I’d just have her explain the most important parts to me for when we took the test. She liked reading more than I did, anyway. Somehow, she actually found  _ joy  _ in reading books. It amazed me that some people could enjoy reading and did it as a hobby. I could never.

_ Tink _

I looked to the right at my window. I watched another rock, pebble, hit it. It was such a stupid way to get my attention that I had to roll my eyes at it. But I knew that An didn’t want to come knocking at the door. She didn’t want to bother my parents. They didn’t like her very much. It still struck me as funny. It was such an eighties thing to do. I wondered if she would next try to make me climb out my window using bed sheets next. I snickered at that thought. With how light my bed was, I’d probably drag it right out the window with me.

Again, I crept past my parents, who were still away from the land of the conscious. I figured they’d be out for a while. They might still be out by the time I got back. It wasn’t unprecedented, so it wasn’t out of the question. In fact, I hoped they were still knocked out when I got back.

An readied her arm to throw another rock. This one actually was rock-sized.

“Woah, you planning to pay for my broken window when you throw that?”

The suddenness scared her. The rock, instead of going to the window, came toward me. Thank God it missed.

“What the fuck, An?”

“Don’t scare me like that!”

“Scare you? You’re throwing big ass rocks at my window!” I threw a rock back at her.

“They were pebbles. I didn’t think you were hearing me, so I thought you might pay attention to a rock hitting you in the head,” she reasoned. What an excuse. 

I loved her for her reasonings to these things. An truly was a force of chaos. One wouldn’t expect it looking at her, though. She was small and unassuming. But truly, a force of chaos.

“What do you want?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “Nothing much. I’m bored. Come do something with me.”

“What are we gonna do?”

An shrugged again. “I don’t know. Walk through the woods and hope a serial killer doesn’t get to us?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

A serial killer never did find us.

Only a cop asking us to please get off of private property.


	3. Minnesota, 1997

“How hard did that fucker hit you?”

“Pretty hard.”

An dabbed a wet washcloth against a cut on my eyebrow while I kept a tissue at my nose. I winced at the light pressure she applied. It hurt like a motherfucker. 

“Make sure you’re pinching your nose,” she reminded me.

“I am, I am.”

“And don’t tilt your head back.”

“Girl, you are holding my head firmly in place. It’s not going anywhere.”

The room got quiet. She kept pulling back the cloth to put it in more water. The water looked pretty gross. I hadn’t realized I had been bleeding that much.

It made me glad her parents weren’t home. I didn’t want them walking into An’s room to find us looking like we were cleaning up a murder scene.

“How’d he cut you?” she asked.

“Is it deep?” I didn’t want stitches. I didn’t want to go to the hospital. My cover story wasn’t written yet. 

“I think you’re okay?”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“You’re fine,” she said, this time trying to sound sure of herself. I could hear the worry behind those words. She didn’t know.

“We-” she paused, “we could find my mom or dad. They would be better at this than me. They could tell you if you needed to go to the hospital. They would take you, too.”

“No, no. I feel fine.”

“You need a new tissue.”

I pulled the one I was holding away from my nose. The entire thing was red and wet. I tossed it and An handed me a new one. I didn’t think noses were supposed to bleed as much as mine was.

“So, how did your dad cut you?” she asked again.

“Threw a beer bottle at me, and fortunately for him it hit me. Unfortunately for me, it hit me.”

I needed to act like it didn’t matter, that I didn’t care. For An’s sake as much as my own, I needed to be nonchalant about this. If I started to act like this wasn’t normal, I was going to lose my shit. Then An would lose hers. One of us needed to be calm.

She put a bandage over the cut on my head. She tilted my face back a bit.

“Thought you didn’t want me to tilt my head,” I said, trying to make her laugh, be sarcastic, anything other than concerned. When An was concerned, it meant something was really wrong. I didn’t need things to be really wrong. I only needed them to be a little wrong.

“You’re bruising up bad,” she said instead. I hated when she acted like this. When she acted like the responsible one. An shouldn’t have had to do this. She shouldn’t have had to play doctor and therapist. An should have been my best friend, the one I did dumb stuff with. The one I could talk to, yes, but not the one I should have had to talk to about my deadbeat parents.

“I’m fine. I just need to ice it.”

“Your dad is gonna kill you one of these days,” An said, pulling away from my cheek. “Or your mom. I know she can be just as bad.”

They were both terrible. I hated both of them. Them, and the drugs, and the alcohol, and this town, and… and everything. Everything was shit. I could sum everything about my life with the word  _ shit _ .

“What if we left?” The words left my mouth before I could even think about why I was saying them.

“Left?” An repeated.

“Yeah,” I said, thinking more about it. “Left this shit town. We could get away from everyone and everything. 

“I don’t know, Sam. That could cause a lot of problems. I know you and your parents have a fuckton of issues, but is running away really the solution? I mean,” she lowered her voice, “I love my mom and dad.”

I knew she did, and asking her to leave with me was asking a lot of her. Maybe too much. But most of the other people in town disliked An because she was Chinese. Her parents weren’t popular people in town either. I didn’t understand why they wanted to stay.

“You’re right,” I conceded. “But, I think my issues are gonna get worse the longer I stay here. An, you could date someone here with a lot less judgement than I could. You’re straight. I’m not. Your parents don’t beat you. Your parents don’t throw bottles at you and cut open your head. What difference would it make if I left? My parents wouldn’t even look for me, I guarantee it.”

“I’d miss you,” An answered.

I’d miss An, too.

Again, I pulled the tissue from my nose. It wasn’t as red or wet as the other one. I put my fingers to my nose. It had stopped bleeding. I threw away the tissue.

“Do… do you think leaving would make things better?” An asked.

“Could it really make things worse?” I asked. 

“Things can always get worse.”

“Then what do I have to lose if it’ll get worse no matter where I am?”

An didn’t answer. I didn’t know if it was because she agreed with me or because she didn’t.

We sat in the silence for a long time. At one point, her parents came home and came up to say hello to An, and they said it to me when they saw I was with her. They offered to let me stay for dinner, but I politely told them no.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“When do we go?”

I turned to look at her. “You wanna go?”

“If you think it’ll make things better, then yeah. Let’s get out of here. Fuck this town.”

It both terrified me and excited me that maybe this was my chance to get out of this hick town with the judgements of others. Screw everyone, but especially mom and dad. 

What could be the worst thing that could happen to me, anyway? I could die? I doubted that would even bother me all that much. As long as it happened outside this town, I didn’t care.

I was leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, we have begun Sam's journey to Gotham


	4. Wisconsin, 1997

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one use of a derogatory term toward gay people said by the main character. I wanted to put this here as a warning. If it happens again in future chapters, I will also put warnings on those, as well.

It had taken me and An just over thirteen hours to get over the border, taking us from Minnesota to Wisconsin. We were near LaCrosse, so literally, just over the border. What should have been only a two-hour trip turned into a thirteen hour one since neither of us owned a car. Picking up rides from strangers made things a little faster, but I was not moving at the pace I wanted to move to get where we were going.

Which we still hadn’t decided on. We were wanderers without a destination. 

More often than not, I wondered what we were doing. I knew An thought the same thing. We were sixteen. This was insane for us to be doing. And we had made it so much farther than I had ever thought we would. We weren’t even in our home state anymore. We were hours away from home.

“Sam, what the hell are we doing?” An asked as we sat on the curb of a street. “It’s going to be winter soon. We’re two broke kids and we’re putting ourselves into way too much danger. We’re taking rides from potential serial killers!”

“We haven’t died yet.”

“That’s not my point, Sam! This is insane! My mom and dad are probably so worried about me!”

I thought about revoking An’s status as a force of chaos. Didn’t she get that this was the best plan for both of us? The town hated us. An’s parents were the only ones who would even care we were missing. An and I were the outcasts. No one cared about the faggot and the Chinese girl.

By this point, I would doubt her parents hated me for convincing An to do this with me.

“At least you had people that cared about you!”

“I care about you, Sam! I care about you so goddamn much and you’re acting like the entire world is against you! It’s one town filled with shitty people; the whole world isn’t like that. You can leave when you have the means to, not now when we’re both unable to do anything but rely on others!” An ranted.

“Then why did you come?” I asked roughly. She didn’t have to follow me. It was her own decision to come with me.

“Damn it, Sam, did you not just hear what I said?” she yelled, getting to her feet. “I fucking care! You’re going to get yourself killed, what do you not get about that? Let’s just go home. We made it this far. This itself is a big ‘fuck you’ to everyone. I think this proves that we’re not kids willing to put up with other people’s bullshit.”

Cars passed us. An paced up and down a short length of sidewalk. I stayed on the curb. Yes, this was already a big “fuck you” to everyone in that town, but the moment we went back, things would go back to exactly as they were. That is, if anyone even cared we left town. I knew Johanna and Ramsay didn’t give a damn about me.

“It’s almost winter, Sam,” An said quietly. “What the hell are we going to do when winter comes? It’s already getting cold.”

An was smarter than me. I knew that. I didn’t need her to tell me about the situation we were in.

“Go then,” I settled for. An was my rock. I didn’t want her to leave, but by staying she was in danger. I didn’t want An in danger because of my stupid decisions. If something happened to her, I wouldn’t ever be able to forgive myself. She was my best friend.

“What?” She stopped pacing.

“Go home. I’m-I’m not going back. But you can. I won’t be upset. Your family loves you and they’re probably losing their minds over not being able to find you.”

“I’m not leaving you here alone. You don’t even know where you’re going.”

“And when I figure it out, I’ll let you know. I’ll write to you when I get to where I’m going,” I said. “Or I’ll call.”

“That could be months. You could die out here and I would never even know.”

That was a possibility. A big possibility considering how bleak the situation was looking to be going forward. 

“Just come home with me, Sam,” An begged.

“No.” 

I made up my mind. I would keep going, eventually ending up somewhere. An could go home. She would be better off there than I would ever be. An would be fine. I would be fine out here. 

If I kept telling myself that, maybe I would believe it.

“Go home, An. I’ll be okay. Promise.”

“Come on, Sam” she whispered, sounding as though she was just on the verge of tears. “Come on.”

I finally stood up. I took one of her hands and held it, squeezed it. “Go home, An. I’ll call when I get where I’m going.”

It took a while, but An gave in. She started walking in the direction we came from. I hoped she would make it home okay. I knew it was stupid to make her go by herself, but it was better to let her go now, than make her stay with me any longer. An kept turning back to look at me. Each time, I would smile and wave, even when I was sure she couldn’t see me anymore. Soon, she became a dot against the horizon. I don’t know how long it was, but eventually, she disappeared entirely soon after.

I took in a breath to relieve an ache in my chest.

She would make it home. I knew she would. I needed to believe she would.

For a long time I stayed on the curb, watching cars drive by. No one stopped, and it occurred to me that I didn’t even know if it was legal to hitchhike in Wisconsin. I wondered if that was why it was so hard to get a car to stop.

A shiver ran through my body. I pulled my coat tighter around me. It would be freezing soon. Instead of Johanna and Ramsay freezing to death, it would be me. The irony of thought. 

It got too cold for me to stay sitting on the curb. I stood and started walking again. Maybe if I kept walking, I could find somewhere to stay. Somewhere warmer.

“God, Sam, you’re such an idiot. You didn’t plan any of this out,” I muttered to myself as I walked, keeping my coat tight around me. My fingers were freezing. “Why didn’t you listen to An, she’s smarter than you.”

I rubbed my hands together and stuck them in my pockets. Why did the Midwest have to be so damn cold? It felt like needles were poking my cheeks. And it was only October. God, I hoped the snow didn’t come early. Or at all. No snow at all would be good, too.

_ Some unspecified hours later  _

A woman dropped me off in Madison. I thanked her, and she went on her way. She was going to Chicago to see some family. I hoped she would enjoy her time there. She seemed like a nice woman.

I thought about An. She might have been home already, warm and safe with her family. I wondered if she thought about me at all. If she thought I was dead already, somewhere in a ditch for some stray pedestrian to find.

I breathed on my hands, then rubbed them together. I needed to find a pair of gloves or something. My fingers would freeze off if I didn’t. 

Maybe I would go to Chicago, too. It was a big enough city, and far away enough from Minnesota. And I was getting closer to it. I wondered if that woman would have brought me all the way there.

That didn’t matter anymore. She was gone.

My goal would be Chicago. From there, I would decide if I stayed or not.

_ More hours later _

It had taken me until Janesville to realize how close it was getting to Halloween. When I got there, I realized it  _ was  _ Halloween. Decorations were up on almost every house and children were running around in costumes hidden by coats and boots. One child came up to me and told me she was a Wisconsin princess. Her mother was quick to pull her away from me, and the glare she gave made it clear I was not welcome around her child.

Which was fair enough. I looked homeless.

Well, I guess I was homeless.

I wandered around Janesville, taking candy from the bowls of the lazy families who just set them out on their porch or something. Seriously, did they think the “take one” sign was going to keep people from taking more than one? At one point, I thought about taking the just bowl to be funny.

After a break, I was ready to keep going. My jacket wasn’t doing much to keep out the chill. My fingers and toes were numb. The longer I kept on, the more I realized I hadn’t prepared for a trip this long, especially one where I was outside most of the time.

Something fell in front of my face. At first, I thought it was raining. It wasn’t. Rain wasn’t white.

“God damn it.”

The snow started out as fluffy white flakes. The ground was cold, so they didn’t melt. Soon enough, the snow came down heavier. The snow would stay for a long while. I hoped it would stop before long, before the cold white shit completely covered the ground

This wouldn’t be good on my already numb fingers and toes.

There were a ton of small towns around. I could probably find a building that wasn’t being used to stay in for a while. It would be better than wandering outside in the dark. In the morning, maybe I could find someone to take me at least across the border. I was almost there. Someone had to be crossing the border.

As I walked, it became harder to breathe. I had to take deeper breaths.

Hopefully, I would find a place to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't know if I've mentioned this, but Sam is my sister's character. She's very excited that I put him into this series.
> 
> Also, have you ever gotten so into your own universe that you don't wanna end it ever? I'm really feeling that now. I've grown to love this little universe I've created.


	5. Illinois, 1997

“Kid. Hey, kid.” I felt a tapping on my shoulder, then a shake. “Wake up.”

My eyes blinked open, squinting when they saw the sun. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. The truck wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than sleeping outside or in an old barn where one might get attacked by an unusually aggressive pigeon.

“You sleep like the dead. We’re getting closer to Rockford.”

“I appreciate it, sir.”

The man’s name was Brad. He kept one hand on the wheel of the truck and used the other one to drink out of his mug. I’m pretty sure there was coffee in it. A cigarette hung from his lips. Once in a while I’d have to wave the smoke away from my eyes, even though his window was cracked open.

“What business do you got in Chicago?” Brad asked.

“Family,” I said immediately, thinking of the woman who had been heading to Chicago. She would have made it there by now.

“Don’t have any family that would take you there? Kid like you shouldn’t be out here on your own, especially during this time of year.”

What would I say to that? Tell him the truth; that I ran away from home because Johanna and Ramsay were druggies and the town hated me? Make something up that made me sound like I was a little normal?

“Ran away,” I settled for. And that was all I said. I stared out the window and watched other cars pass us. The ground was covered in white. The window was cold against my cheek. I hated winter.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I didn’t want to explain anymore, and he didn’t ask for further explanations. I continued to stare out the window, content to listen to the sounds of the truck. At least it was warm. My hands and toes weren’t numb anymore.

Brad had let me borrow a pair of gloves. They helped keep out some of the chill. Helped a lot, actually.

“Got any plans for Chicago?” Brad asked, knocking some ash off the tip of the cigarette.

“Find the family. Try to find a job,” I said, only half lying.

“How you gonna get there from Rockford?”

“Same way I’m getting to Rockford.”

Brad tapped his fingers against the wheel of the truck. He used the other hand to pull the cigarette away from his lips. He held it in the air for a while, then pressed it back to his lips. The truck was filled with smoke, even with the window cracked open. I started to regret telling him I was okay with him smoking.

“I gotta friend in Rockford. He goes to Chicago pretty much every month. I don’t think he’s gone yet. He might be willing to make the trip with you,” Brad said. “If you’re willing.”

“I won’t be able to pay him anything.”

“That’s generally why people hitchhike; cause it’s free.”

“I don’t wanna inconvenience him.”

Brad let out some smoke. “Tell you what, next stop I’ll give him a call and ask. I gotta get gas coming up here.”

I nodded, but was pretty sure he didn’t see it. I didn’t know how I felt about a stranger asking his friend to give me a ride to Chicago. It was dangerous. Extremely.

But then again, hitchhiking itself was dangerous. I mean, Brad was a stranger. He could have killed someone at some point.

Didn’t have a lot of choices available to me, though. If I kept walking on my own along the road, I would freeze to death most likely. I couldn’t break my promise to An. I had to get to Chicago, if only to call her to let her know I was okay. I needed her to know I made it somewhere alive.

Brad pulled the truck up to a gas station. I stayed in the truck while he left to fill up the tank. While he was out there, he was on his cellphone, maybe with that friend he was talking about. It looked like a new one. Like one of the new Nokias. That was the only cellphone brand I could think of.

And he had a rusty truck. Brad was sending off some mixed signals. 

“So,” Brad said, getting back in the truck, “that friend I was telling you about was heading to Chicago tomorrow, but is ready to head out tonight. We’ll get to Rockford sometime tonight. You interested in hitchin’ with him?”

“He’s cool with a strange kid being in a car with him?” I asked, still unsure.

“You cool being in a car with a stranger?” Brad asked, though he definitely already knew the answer. I was in a car with him, after all.

“If he can get me to Chicago with no problems, I’m game.”

_ Rockford, Illinois _

“Looks like he’s waiting for you, kid,” Brad said, pulling up to a nice building. A man stood beside a car. A nice car. He looked like a well-off man. Brad put the car in park and stepped out, greeting the man. I stepped out more cautiously. It was dark, but through the light of the streetlamp, I could see parts of the unknown man’s face.

He was handsome. Very, very handsome. And I didn’t mean to stare at him. Really, I didn’t. But he was very, very attractive.

“Hey! Kid! Sam!”

I broke off the stare, hoping neither of them noticed me creepily staring. Brad was waving me over. His friend’s arms were crossed across his chest.

My breath hitched. He looked really good in his t-shirt. I didn’t want to go over there. My face was too warm.

“You feeling okay?” the man asked when I got over there. God, even his voice was hot.

“Yeah, no, I’m good!” I said. Maybe a little too quickly.

He leaned against the car. “So Brad said you need a ride to Chicago? What’s in Chicago?”

“Family.”

“Cool. So your name is Sam, huh?” he asked. He held out a hand. “Scott.”

He had a firm grip.

“You’re in good hands, kid. Good luck in Chicago,” Brad said.

“Thanks for everything, Brad,” I said. 

“Oh, and keep the gloves. Don’t need your fingers falling off.”

He walked back to his truck and left.

“Well, Sam, I’m ready if you are,” Scott said.

Jesus, I wasn’t going to survive this trip.

_ Somewhere on the road _

Turns out, Scott liked country music. He sang along to some love song by a male/female duet. He had a nice voice. Everything about him was nice. I kept sneaking glances at him. He wasn’t wearing a ring, so I don’t think he was married. He might’ve had a girlfriend, though.

“So,” I said. That was it. I don’t even know why I started talking. I didn’t know what to talk about.

“So,” he repeated.

“Brad said you go to Chicago every month. What for?”

“To see my kids.”

Oh. He had kids. But he wasn’t living with them or the mother. Divorce?

“Kids?”

“Yeah, two girls. They live with their mom. Divorced, as you probably guessed,” he said. Now he was tapping along with the song.

I didn’t know how to respond. I’m sorry? Stay quiet? Change the subject?

Thankfully, I didn’t have to do any of those. Scott changed the subject for me.

“So you have family in Chicago?” he asked.

“Uh-yeah.”

“So what are you running from?” he continued.

“What makes you think I’m running from anything?”

“You’re a hitchhiking teenager. Usually when there’s a teenager hitchhiking, they’re running from something or someone.”

I debated telling him or not telling him. What harm would it do to tell him that I was running away from my hometown and parents? It’s not like he could send me back to them.

“My parents and the town I’m from,” I said. “I didn’t belong there.”

“Bad parents?”

“Yeah.”

“You from a small town?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Figures.”

“I was with a friend, but she went back. I told her to go back, and that I would call her when I figured out where I was going,” I explained.

“Hm. Well, I hope Chicago turns out better for you.”

“Me too.”

_ Some time later _

I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes, unaware I even fell asleep.

“We’re in Chicago, Sam. Where do you need me to drop you off?” Scott asked.

I panicked. I hadn’t thought about that.

“In front of the Sears Tower. My uncle works there,” I lied, it being the first thing that came to mind.

He stopped in front of the massive tower. It was the biggest building I had ever seen, though there wasn’t much competition.

“Hey-uh, thanks. I appreciate you giving a stranger a ride,” I said.

“No problem, Sam. Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said.

God, I hoped so.

I got out of the car, and when Scott drove away, I stared up at the building.

Where to go now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both An and Sam are based on people I knew in school. Both were amazing and interesting people.


End file.
